chapter forty-three // pinky swear

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"So you're...you're seven weeks along," Spencer recalled. You and Emily nodded. He fixed his hair and swallowed. "I...I don't know how to do this, I don't know how to be a dad. But I want to be. I'm...wow."

-

You all agreed not to tell anyone for a while, and unlike every other secret you've tried to keep, it actually doesn't leak. Emily tends to steal glances at you at work, making sure you're feeling alright. You always give her a small smile or some positive reaction to affirm. It's cute that she worries.

One night you're laying in bed, trying to fall asleep with your head against Emily's chest, and in a very small voice she says, "Y/N?"

"Yeah, love?" She hesitates for a moment, and you think it's because she's embarrassed.

"Do you think our child will think I'm cool?"

Your shriek-laugh makes Emily start laughing, too. You realize she wasn't embarrassed, she was trying to keep her head so she could deliver her joke.

"Oh, honey, I think you'll be the coolest mom,"

"Not counting you, of course,"

"No, counting me. You're way cooler than I am." She sighs and shakes her head.

"So true." She giggles and kisses the top of your head. "I'm just kidding, love. Good night, sweet girl,"

"Night." You nestle into her chest and let her arms wrap around you, keeping you safe and warm.

You feel Emily get up in the night, and you try to get back to sleep when you see the bathroom light turn on. It's no use, though, and before you can fall asleep, the light turns off while she's still inside. "Ems?" you call out.

"Yeah?" Her voice is thick, like she's been crying.

"Honey, are you okay?"

"Fine, just go back to sleep," she calls. She doesn't want to talk about it. She whispers something to herself, but you can't hear it, and she sniffles and joins you back in bed. "Sorry, love,"

"What's wrong, Emily?" She shakes her head and settles in. "Really, Em,"

"It's fine. I'll tell you in the morning. I'm tired." You kiss her forehead, nod, and get back in her sweet embrace. Though it's difficult with that on your mind, you manage to fall asleep until a few minutes before your alarm goes off. You give her forehead kisses when you feel her stirring, and get up to see that the alarm doesn't go off. "Mm," she murmurs. "Morning,"

"Good morning," you say with a smile, coming back into bed after shutting off the alarm clock across the room. "How's my wife this morning?"

"She's fine," Emily grins. "How's mine?" You kiss the tip of her nose and then her lips.

"Good. D'you sleep okay?" Emily's lips fall away from yours and you move to support yourself on your forearm.

"I had a nightmare. I'm okay,"

"You woke up crying, Em." She's disappointed, ashamed. "What can I do?"

"You're sweet, my love. Just be you. That's all." She shows you her small smile and kisses you before getting up to get dressed.

What horrors could have torn her asunder in the night to make you not yourself? How were you possibly able to remedy this?

Who the fuck do you think you are, Shakespeare? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, take it down a notch.

Nonetheless, Emily needed some love, and desperately. You get up behind her and kiss her neck softly, and you know her smile's shining bright on her face. Your fingers push her hair from her neck to give you more access and you kiss her collarbone. "Any better, darling?"

"My God, I'm so in love with you," she replies in a breathy whisper. "Thank you for trying to make me feel better, sweetheart,"

"Anytime." You smirk. "You don't have to tell me all about it if you don't want — but if you do of course I'll listen, love — but I need to know you're okay. You don't like to show, but your nightmares really affect you, love." You kiss her and she curls her lips into a lopsided smile.

"I'm okay,"

"Pinky swear?" You hold up your pinky, and with a roll of her eyes, Emily interlocks it with hers. 

"Pinky swear. I'm okay, I'm always okay as long as you're here."

-

You're on a case for a couple days, and Emily does everything in her power to keep you safe on the job. She has for months. When you get home, the team's all having dinner at Rossi's. You're all sitting outside around the table and Morgan pours you a glass of wine. You pass it to Emily, and JJ looks at you with suggestion. You glare back and scoff. "I'm driving home tonight. Returning one of a million times Emily's been the designated driver of the two of us. Though when it's just two I guess it's just 'the sober one'." Everyone laughs and continues their conversations. Emily's secretly impressed by your ability to cover so quickly, but it's your job. 

"Good job, baby," she says in the car on the way home. You did end up driving, of course, because Emily really did drink your wine. 

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